Peter O’Toole raised his glass. “I grow old… I grow old… I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach? I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. I hear the mermaids singing each to each…” He paused for effect and fixed Sam’s (Pekinpah) eyes with his own. “I do not think they will sing to me… or thee.”
The Juice Bar 